A Question Of Identity
On her 90th birthday she looked in the mirror
and tried to identify the face looking back.
She felt the same as ever
but the face,
that was the mystery
how could she connect the two,
how she felt and how she looked.
Perhaps a mystic would tell her
that the face had been through the fire of life,
but so had everything that made up her identity,
or more accurately, her multiple identities,
different ones for every occupation,
and every situation.
The ones foisted on her by parents
were soon rejected and replaced
by the ones she made up for herself,
but always the same person,
but not in that mirror
but something to celebrate.